I was born and raised in New Delhi. My parents passed away when I was a teenager and I was raised by my grandmother. This is my story.
During my early twenties, my life just revolved around my friends, drinking with them every weekend, and never taking my career seriously or cherishing my small loving family.
It was during that time that I started smoking marijuana. What started out as a recreational activity soon became a habit for every weekend and before I knew it, I was an addict. I was even one of those netizens who endorsed “legalise marijuana” campaigns on social media. My first manic episode that got triggered between March-April 2015 was a combination of a lot of factors, but marijuana was the main one, according to the doctor. Later, I learnt the hard way that no mind altering drug can be good for the brain.
In January, 2015, I had joined a training organisation as a behavioural trainer, and was finally doing something in terms of my career which I really enjoyed. That was the starting point of my episode. By the following month, I started staying unusually happy all the time, was energetic, talking big, behaving in a weird manner with friends and family (hypomania), but they could not understand.For those with bipolar disorder, life would be a lot easier if hypomania (mild manic symptoms) were more like a stomach ache. You’d begin to hurt or feel nauseous and the experience would signal that something is wrong.
By March, it went through the roof and people around me realised that something was wrong and that manic episode lasted a month. The only part I regret about my manic episode is the trouble I caused to my friends and family. I lost a couple of dear friends due to that episode. After hallucinating for a month in April, 2015, the high came down, and I crash landed and hit reality. That was the hardest part. I just could not understand what had happened and what I had done wrong. I would tremble in bed with fear.
Friends who were affected did come to meet (a few of them), but they just could not empathize with the intensity of my pain.
It was PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). I was clinically depressed. I dreaded waking up in the morning, because all those thoughts of the episode would come back and haunt me to no end. I used to spend all day staring at the clock waiting for the evening to come so that I could sleep. Luckily, I was able to sleep even at that time.
The manic episode was scary, and other people would get troubled. However, for me, the time I would spend alone in a room, easily became the darkest traumatic period of my life (the depressive end of bipolar disorder). I couldn’t get over the fact that a couple of childhood friends did not even come to save me when I might easily have self-harmed because they thought I was ‘too dangerous’! But then, other couple of other friends put everything on the line to save me and supported my family. Well, I guess the character of a friend gets exhibited in a crisis.
After six months, I tried working in an organisation but just could not continue. I had to quit. By now, even a few friends who were supportive got irritated and gave me a diktat, „If you wont work, we won’t meet you”. That was like being struck by a bolt of lightning. I spent endless nights thinking about how my childhood friends could be so inhumane and why they couldn’t understand my condition. Now, I have forgiven them thinking there is as such little awareness about mental health. And maybe, that was their way to get me back on my feet.
According to my psychologist, the void of my parents in my life, I had filled that up with friends. I learnt the hard way that nothing in this world can be a substitute for a family. After 18 months, my grandmother broke down and told me that if she had to see me in this state, she would die. That was a big wake up call for me.
2017 came like a relief. Good things started happening after two years of just sitting at home and repeating the incident in my head like a vicious cycle, where I had lost all hope and just given up hope on life.
Luckily in May 2017, I got an opportunity to be part of a Government project in Bangladesh as a soft skills trainer. That change of environment did me a whole lot of good. The most important highlight of 2017 was my mental health recovery. I am also lucky in the sense that when I was down in the dumps, the people in my life, especially my best friend, provided me with support. He believed in me. I think I have built even stronger relationships since then, and it has made me a more self-aware person.
Just when I thought my life was finally back on track and the one-time ordeal had ended, I suffered from another manic episode in 2018. I lost my job again and my life savings. But this time the shock factor was less, as I had accepted that I have to deal with my bipolar disorder for the rest of my life. Neither did I have any expectations from anyone this time. It was clear to me that “I am the one for myself”, and within five months of the episode, I stood up again.
What I’ve just laid out may be one of the most difficult challenges of having bipolar disorder. If you’re bipolar, you can’t necessarily trust the natural ebb and flow of mood and emotion. Thinking, self-observing and applying good judgement must become the transformative mantra of the bipolar young adult. And once you understand that just because your experience “feels good” it doesn’t always mean “it is good” for you, you’re more than halfway towards figuring out how to remain stable.
Currently I am working as an Assistant Manager Training in an MNC in Gurgaon. I have found my lost drive to excel in my career. The only way I can make some sense out of that dark phase of my life is that I can help and inspire others who are suffering from mental health issues by telling them that recovery is possible, and that we can strive to live a normal healthy life as well.
